The Slayer Academy: Slayer Shorts
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: Ever wondered what life was like for the Potentials post-Sunnydale? Story shorts on such things ranging from day to day life @ the Slayer Academy to taking a look at what it was like for a Potential to be Called. Open to other Authors; Cross-listed on T
1. Slayer Shorts: Intro & Rules

**The Slayer Academy: Slayer Shorts**

**Ever wondered what life was like for the Potentials post-Sunnydale? Story shorts on such things; OPEN TO ALL AUTHORS who want to explore!**

**Introduction, Rules, & Suggestions**

**INTRODUCTION:**

Recently I began writing a new story (The Slayer Academy, Vol.1) that takes a look at the Slayer Academy that Giles and the new Council set up 2 months after Sunnydale, kinda my alternative to Season 8. The story follows the lives of the new slayers and our dear Scoobies.

FatherAndSonGrimm suggested that I make it so other authors can add to it since soooo many people on this site have thought of exploring post-Sunnydale life and enjoy writing about the Potentials. Since I have some definite places where I want to go with my story, I decided to create this for all the supernaturalfanatics and FatherAndSonGrimms out there who want to write on Post-Potential Life:

The Slayer Academy: Slayer Shorts

**RULES:**

1. Your addition must be about post-Sunnydale life: Read the Prologue to understand where this is starting off and check out chapter 4 of the Slayer Academy Vol 1 (soon to be posted) where the Scoobs tell all the new Slayers what's up and they get their class schedules if you want ideas.

2. It must be about one of the following:

*A Potential's power being awakened and their background story,

*Life at the Slayer Academy for either the Scoobies, Potentials from Season 7, or any new slayers you create.

**You could also have characters who are part of the witches coven or Watchers/Watchers-In-Training or instructors.

3. If you want to take things from my story of SA: Vol. 1 (like their classes or the Scoobies' roles, etc) I'm okay with that.

3. Your story can just be Buffyverse or it can be a cross-over

5. You can post as often as you like.

6. Be sure to do a disclaimer for each addition.

7. HAVE FUN! All genres are encouraged: angst, humor, romance, whatever you are feeling!

8. Any questions, you are welcome to message me!

**SUGGESTIONS:**

1. Explore what it's like for one girl to all of a sudden on a day in May to get new powers; think about the ones we saw in the finale or create your own. Explore their backstory- Does being a Slayer make their life better? Worse?

2. You can have a Potential meeting a Scoobie who goes all Hagrid on them and says "Hey! You're a Slayer! Welcome to the Slayer Academy!" and the girl is all like "WTF, mate?!" or "Wicked Cool!"

3. Explore life at the Slayer Academy- What's it like being taught by Faith or Buffy or even Andrew?! Don't forget- they go on Field Experiences and Missions as well so your story can take place in a South American jungle or a Nepalese mountain top!

4. Explore the lives of one of the Potentials, from the final Sunnydale fight or afterwards: Kennedy, Vi, Rona, Caridad, etc.

5. What's life like for the Scoobs? Do they actually get a life now? Or is it just more work?

6. Crossovers: What if Hermione (HP) was a Slayer or Phoebe Hallowell (Charmed) taught a class on understanding magicks or Dean (Supernatural) teaches a class on demon ass-kicking and maybe gets some hook-up time with your fav person , etc!

**Author Disclaimer: **

Also, I plan on using this as another outlet for me to create characters or use scenes that don't fit in Volume 1 of the Slayer Academy, so don't be surprised if you see me linking from these short stories into Vol 1. However, I will not use anything that anyone else creates, unless I receive permission.

*Obviously Joss Whedon and Fox own Buffy, those lucky blokes. We just enjoy manipulating the characters for our own fun way of expression*


	2. The Slayer Academy Prologue

**The Slayer Academy Series: Prologue**

"_Into every generation a Slayer is Born_

_One girl in all the world_

_She alone will have the strength and the skill_

_To battle the Forces of Darkness"_

Before mankind was born demons plagued the earth. They made it their playground where death, torture, and madness bloomed like creeping ivy. Eventually their dominion was lost as humankind rose as the prevalent species of the planet. The pure demons were killed and expelled into the various levels of hell but before one demon was sent away it fed on a human being's blood. A dark magick occurred and the essence of the demon poured into the corpse as their blood was mixed. At nightfall the corpse rose from the dead and retained the memories of the person but a demon lived inside instead of a soul. This was the first vampire and as the years passed these creatures increased in number. Living off of human blood, these vampires terrorized the humans who often could not fight back due to the undead creature's supernatural strength and reflexes.

Until three wise men of a tribe realized how to create what they needed against all the demons and vampires: A Protector. All the magick required was the essence of a demon which they acquired through magick and trickery. When they were ready they took a teenage girl from their tribe and chained her to the cave floor. She cried out in fear but they explained that they would be giving her the power to fight back the forces of darkness. Inserting the essence of the demon into the girl she changed irrevocably. Her body knew strength, agility, stamina, and she possessed great healing powers. The three wise men sent her into the world to defeat the demons and vampires in order to protect the humankind.

She was the Slayer.

Upon her death the magick of the wise men lived on to choose a successor whose body received the same gifts as the First Slayer. For thousands of years this chain of sisterhood continued as young women were called to protect and to slay.

For thousands of years it continued until the Slayer Buffy Anne Summers, the Last Guardian of the Hellmouth. This Slayer disrupted the chain twice. The Master Vampire drowned her and left her for dead, yet a valiant friend named Xander Harris revived her and brought her back to life. This act called a second slayer named Kendra. Upon Kendra's quick demise at the hands of the vampire Drusilla, a new slayer was called to fight with Buffy: Faith. Then Buffy Summers died to save the world from an apocalypse and the chain of power was set back to its original intentions.

But it was not meant to be. A Witch named Willow Rosenberg extracted Buffy Summers' soul from heaven and resurrected the Slayer. Once again the line was terribly disrupted. The magick that held this line of power began to fall apart and the First Evil took this opportunity to begin eradicating the Slayer lineage. However, numerous different forces ensured that the First Evil lost its war to regain Earth as its demonic enterprise.

One force involved the Witch Willow Rosenberg harnessing the power of the Slayer line from its great heirloom, the Scythe, that was forged by the ancient Guardians of the Slayers. Through a great spell she was able to distribute the power of the Slayer into all Potential Slayers. Each girl who could be a Slayer became a Slayer. Hundreds were called and the Forces of Good rejoiced at their surge in power.

Only one problem remained. How do the Forces of Good ensure that those hundreds of newly formed Slayers are properly trained for their life of battle?

Enter the Slayer Academy, founded by the Head of the newly formed Watcher Council, Rupert Giles. Located in Great Britain inside an ancient castle, the Slayer Academy has been named as the starting point for all Slayers and was founded two months after the closing of the Sunnydale Hellomouth. A coven of witches that worked with the Council found each Slayer that was called and then other Slayers brought her to the Academy. The teenage Slayers arrived from different countries, spoke different languages, and had lived entirely different lives, but they had one thing in common: Destiny.

Here are the stories of these Slayers as they embrace their newfound destiny and learn just exactly what it means to be a Vampire Slayer.

"_From now on every girl in the world who might be a Slayer will be a Slayer. _

_Every girl who could have that power will have that power_

_Can stand up, will stand up. _

_Slayers. _

_Every one of us"_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:**

As my faithful readers of '_A Vampire Slayer in Middle-Earth' _may know, I am quite curious as to what happens after season 7. Sure, Joss Whedon has his comic book series but I'm not a stellar fan; I can't really get into the Big Bad that is Twilight, Xander/Dawn freaks me out, the almost Buffy/Xander, & I dislike the weird relationships amongst the Scoobies; plus I'm broke so I've only read a couple issues.

In my previously mentioned story I explore the life of one Potential (an OC of mine) 5 years after the finale. In this series I would like to explore the lives of more the Scoobies and Potentials after season 7. Enter the Slayer Academy.

Here I will explore their lives, singling out several Potentials and of course our Scoobies. As to what will happen to them and who all I will be focusing on, that is still being worked out.

I wanted to post this to get some feedback. I love feedback and I love bouncing ideas off of people so please review :) I would definitely appreciate it!

**---**

**DISCLAIMER:**

As always, Joss Whedon (a God amongst Men) and 20th Century Fox own all the Buffy Universe. I only own the pain, happiness, and hijinks that I inflict upon those wonderful characters. Although… I would be sorely tempted to give away my first born if only Mr. Whedon would give me the rights to Buffy… Kidding! _(kind of ;)_


	3. So Is It Mr Vader or Mr Darth Vader?

The Slayer Academy: Slayer Shorts

**So, is it Mr. Vader or Mr. Darth Vader?**

**A/N:**

_Intro_: Andrew + Geekiness+ Magic+ A Force-Choking Professor= Bad Ass.

_Setting_: Sometime after the opening of the Slayer Academy

_Genre_: Comedy/Silliness

_Crossover_: Yes, Star Wars

_Disclaimer_: Joss Whedon is God and I love playing in his universe. He owns all things associated with Buffyverse. George Lucas is indeed another God of another brilliant universe and owns Darthie Poo. And… Tolkien owns the first 3 words ;)

* * *

"Yesss, my Preciousss, finally you are here," Andrew cooed to his recently dropped off Fed-Ex box as he stood in the foyer of the English castle that was known as the Slayer Academy.

Dawn looked up from her leather-bound book, 'Ancient Sumerian for Dummies.' "What's that?" she asked as she stretched out onto a worn but comfy brown leather couch.

Andrew answered as he busily yet carefully tore at the packaging tape. "Oh my gosh, I've been waiting for it ever since I won the bid on E-Bay!" he exclaimed frantically. "It is a First Edition Star Wars Action Figure of Darth Vader!" In his eagerness his finger sliced against the sharp cardboard. "Owwwwwie!," he squealed. "I hate cardboard cuts. Why is this box so freaking hard to open anyways?"

Biting back a smile, Dawn gestured for Andrew to hand the box over. "Here, I've got nails." Like an expert she sliced and tore at the box until it was open. "Ooh, shiny," she admired as she reached into the box.

"Hey! Hey now!" Andrew tore back the box and grimaced. "No touching the goods, sister. Thanks for your help but I can't get any finger marks on him."

"Dork," she muttered as she rolled her eyes and returned to her ancient Sumerian language study.

"Shiny Key thing," he said in a low voice as he walked away. He was so engrossed in taking in his newest acquisition that he bumped into Willow as he rounded a corner.

"Oops, sorry!" he said as she juggled her various boxes.

"Its fine Andrew. Actually, can you take these up to the Magic Wing, room number three? I have no idea where my apprentices ran off and we're doing a summoning spell soon."

"Cool," Andrew said with a smile. "Can I watch?"

"Sure, no problem." Then she put on her stern Willow face. "Just don't say anything." She started to walk away but paused. "Or do anything." She turned once more but stopped. "Actually, just sit on your hands."

"Hey," he said defensively. "I've sat in on spell casting before. Its not like I'm Xander and mess with magic to do love spells or summon demons. Well, dancing demons anyways."

Willow let out an exasperated sigh and raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, okay. I'm going," he murmured.

With that he took Willow's boxes along with his Darth Vader box and proceeded up to Magic Wing. That had been a recent development as they began acquiring more witches in training and began training some of the Slayers who showed skill in that area. Room number three was used for major spell casting, and Andrew was excited to see some magic. Since undertaking his watcher studies this past year he hadn't been able to dabble much in magic; his time was wholly taken up with readings and seminars… Okay, and his time was taken up with his choice extra-curriculars like collecting fine Star Wars memorabilia.

After setting the boxes in the cupboard, Andrew sat down to admire his action figure while he waited for everyone to settle in. Within half and hour Willow began the spell so he stood up to get a better view; with about twenty witch apprentices and slayers there was quite a crowd. It seemed that Willow was trying to summon a being from another dimension that would be able to help them with the info on the latest apocalypse. Pink crystals were arranged in a circle on the wooden floor and Andrew stepped closer to it to see. He was still holding the box with Darth Vader in it because there was no way he was leaving this toy out of his sight with hormonal teenage super-strong girls.

Vibrations slid through the air and everyone trembled from the feeling of magic touching them. Andrew tried to move to the side so he could see Willow's face; she always had cool creepy looks when she pulled out the major magics… Mmm, speaking of which that place sure sounded fun right now.

With his mind suddenly on pizza, he didn't realize he stepped on a slayer's foot when he tried to move. "Oops," he muttered.

"Hey!" she tore her foot out from under him. "Be careful," she hissed.

Andrew lost his balance and tumbled forward. He lost his grip on his box and it sailed through the air. Catching himself with the hands he let out a very dramatic, "Noooo!", as he saw his action figure land in the circle.

Like a sonic boom, everyone was thrown back from the circle. Willow sat slumped on the floor, dazed, from the unexpected magical interruption. Smoke filled the air and everyone started coughing. Kennedy, Willow's girlfriend and slayer, helped Willow up as she glared at Andrew. "Way to go, Dork Boy!" Then in a softer tone to Willow she added, "Are you okay, baby?"

Willow nodded and Kennedy let go of her once she could stand. Stalking to Andrew she pointed her finger at him and began yelling. "Andrew! I know Willow told you not to do anything and here you are ruining her spell! We're supposed to bring forth an Oracle from another dimension and you messed it up! We don't have many chances to get this right and we need that information."

Andrew stared at her nervously; he found Kennedy very scary when she wasn't just being annoying.

Suddenly Kennedy was lifted up and began grabbing at her throat. Her feet dangled rather comically in the air. Everyone looked at the circle and saw a figure in black as the smoke began clearing.

A mechanical breath filled the air. "You will pay for your insolence, girl."

Andrew's mouth gaped open. That figure in the circle was Darth Vader! Another slayer, Sofia Ramirez, went to deliver a flying kick but she was thrown against the wall with a wave of his gloved hand.

"Stop this!" called Willow in a voice that vibrated with power.

"This girl insulted the one who brought me. I can feel it in the Force."

"ME?" squeaked Andrew.

"Him? Hello, witch here, I brought you. Now let go of my girlfriend!"

Darth Vader turned to Andrew. "Master, is this what you desire?"

"Uh-"

"YES, ANDREW, SAY YES," shouted Willow in a pissed off voice.

"Release her," responded Andrew quickly. Him? A master?

Sweeeeeeeeeeeet.

Kennedy fell to the floor gasping for air as Willow rushed over. The other Slayers formed a protective circle around the two women. Standing up and moving forward, Willow eyed Andrew and Darth Vader suspiciously. "Uh, okay… What happened here?"

Andrew motioned for Darth to speak. After all, if he was a master he should get used to this, having a minion speak for him… Plus, he really had no idea what happened.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away I served the Emperor and we ruled over all. Suddenly, I felt a part of my soul rip away and my spirit became encased in that plastic six-inch prison. Because of my power in the Dark Side of the Force I have been aware of everything but still unable to break out. Andrew here has done so by placing that prison into your circle. I am free because of him and thus I serve him." Darth Vader bowed his head reverently in Andrew's direction. "Thank you for ingeniously releasing me, Master."

Andrew was so happy he grabbed a spare spell book and held it in front of his waist. "Cooool," he whispered.

* * *

Several members of the Watchers Council sat at a long mahogany table in the meeting room, along with Andrew and his recently acquired minion Darth Vader. The present members were Giles, Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Quentin Travers often-annoying son, Sean Travers.

Giles cleared his throat and began the meeting, as per his duty as Council Head. "Today we're having an emergency meeting to decide the fate of Mr. Vader."

Darth Vader released a deep mechanical breath. "It's Darth Vader, actually. I've worked very hard for that title. You have no idea how many people I had to kill to get there."

"Excuse me," mumbled Giles in his polite English manner. "Mr. Darth Vader."

Darth Vader waved his hands in the hair. "No, no no. It is simply Darth Vader. Darth is my title. Technically it is like you are calling me Mr. Mr. Vader in your manner, except of course the title of Darth is highly regarded."

Taking off his glasses to clean them, Giles squinted in Darth Vader's direction. "Ah, yes, of course. My apologies, Darth Vader. Anyways, we must decide what to do with you."

"Yeah, you are technically evil, although cool. Do we need to worry about you trying to kill anymore people?" Xander asked suspiciously.

"I will do as my Master commands me. I do not desire that prison again and the witch has informed me there is no way she can send me back to my original world."

"Uh-huh." Buffy crossed her arms and stared doubtfully. "Aren't you evil? I only got to the first two movies but you were definitely evil. And around here we tend to kill evil things."

Andrew leaned against the table. "No way! You can't kill my minion! Besides, you've hung out with lots of evil men. It's not Darth Vader's fault that he doesn't have great cheekbones or abs or you want to date him!"

"Oh my God, ages ago! Get over it Andrew, I'm over the bad guys."

"Are you?" asked Sean Travers with a raised eyebrow.

Buffy appraised his handsome face and hazel eyes. "Not in this lifetime," she said critically.

"Enough!" Giles held up his hands. "Darth Vader if you vow to not hurt anyone or do any evil then that will set our minds at ease."

"Master?"

"Yes, Darth Vader. Vow to never hurt an innocent or commit evil again."

It sounded like he sighed, but it was hard to tell with the machine-ness of it all. He leaned in closer to Andrew. "Master, you do realize I follow the Dark Side. There is so much power there, and occasionally that power calls for me to do something evil." He shrugged.

Andrew patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, you've got some light in you. We'll talk about all that later." Andrew was especially eager to share his own story of how he redeemed his evil ways to work on the side of Good.

"Very well. I vow to never hurt an innocent or commit evil again." Yes, that was definitely followed by a sigh that time.

"Excellent. Now, you can stay in a room on the fourth floor where all the watchers and watchers-in-training are staying. Someone just moved out so you'll be staying in a room with a second year named Dominic Cruise."

"Uh, excuse me. Did you just say I shall have a roommate?" Darth Vader held his index finger up questioningly in the air.

"Certainly. We're at full capacity right now and we certainly cannot let you leave the premises," Giles answered.

"But-But, I cannot have a roommate! I'm forty years old! I was once at the right-hand of an all-powerful Emperor!"

Xander looked at him in disbelief. "Is the all-scary Darth Vader whining right now?"

Before Vader could finish, Buffy quipped, "And now you'll be bunking with a teenager and eating out of your mini-fridge. Deal with it."

Darth Vader crossed his arms and, likely if they could see his face, was scowling.

"So, what's he going to do while he's here? Hmm… We do need a new janitor! It would be so easy for him to clean, all like Fantasia but with the Force," Xander laughed at his own funniness. Darth Vader just breathed in and out very heavily.

"Actually… I have an idea," said Andrew with a smile. "With Faith out on the Indonesia trip we do have a shortage for another training instructor. Perhaps Darth Vader could fill in?"

Buffy held up a hand. "Hold up, Sparky. You want tall, dark, and evil to be teaching our girls how to fight?"

Andrew shifted nervously. "Uh… yeah."

Buffy nodded and the others followed suit. "Not a bad idea there, Giles Jr."

Giles cleared his throat noisily. "Buffy, what have I said about using that nickname?" he asked in an irritated tone.

Buffy waved away his words. "Fine, Giles."

"Wait a second," began Darth Vader. "Are you implying that I, Darth Vader, scourge of the universe be lowered to teaching those teenage girls that I saw earlier?" He sighed heavily. "I detest teenage girls. They are rather annoying and often fret about their looks."

"Think about it, Darth. You're a totally a BAMF and since you *_are_* evil you'll be much better at teaching the girls how evil guys think," Andrew explained.

Darth Vader crossed his arms and looked at them. "Only if I get my own room. And if the students are insolent I get to Force Choke them."

Giles raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I daresay mate, you cannot Force Choke any of our students, no matter how insolent they are."

Holding his thumb and index finger a little bit apart he asked, "Not even a little?" he whined.

"That's a big negative-o, Darthie Poo. You can't just go walking around Force Choking people. Ya know," Xander held up his index finger to make his point, "maybe you should learn how to resolve your differences with words instead of death and torture."

"You will call me by my rightful name, not 'Darthie Poo', or I shall truly show you the meaning of torture."

"Right now, hold on. Darth Vader, we will give you your own room, but no Force Choking, is that clear?" Giles gave his best stern look. However, seeing that that look didn't even work on Buffy he knew that Vader was probably out of his league.

Darth Vader crossed his arms and leaned back. He breathed loudly. "Fine," he grumbled.

* * *

Vi slid into the training room looking about wildly. Spotting her friend Sofia, she sat down on the gym mat with her. "Am I late?" she gasped. "Has class started yet?"

"Nope, you good. We have a couple minutes." Sofia smiled geekily. "I can't believe the rumors about the new prof. Who would have thought they would have this guy fill in for Faith's class while she's out in Indonesia?"

Shaking her head in wonderment, Vi said, "I know. This is gonna be a trip."

Sofia clapped her hands. "I'm pretty psyched to go up against a Sith Lord and learn some battle skills from him. This is soooo cool!"

Eying her skeptically, Vi asked, "Oh God. I forgot that you're a Star Wars fan?"

She set her shoulders defensively. "Hey, you got your romance novels and I got my Timothy Zahn novels. Don't hate."

"SILENCE" bellowed a deep voice as the door crashed open. Darth Vader stalked into the room as his cape billowed behind him. Immediately, every girl shut up.

"My name is Darth Vader and I will be your instructor for this class. Rule number one: I don't want to be here and I already hate you, so don't try to suck up." Vi heard Sofia sigh sadly next to her. "Rule number two: I will not tolerate any insolence. Is this clear?"

All the girls nodded their head, afraid to speak.

"Excellent. You there." He pointed to Rona in the front row. "Dawn has introduced this beverage called a caramel macchiato to me. You will run to the kitchen and make me one. And don't forget the whipped cream."

"Huh?" Rona's eyes bugged out. "You gotta be kidding me. I'm supposed to be your coffee wench?"

Vader stalked over to her. "I assure you, I never kid." He waved his hand and Rona was levitated out of the room.

"You!" He pointed at an Indian slayer named Sita. "Sit up straight." He motioned with his hand and suddenly her back was super straight. He turned to eye the rest of the class. "I also do not tolerate idleness or laziness." Everyone gulped.

Darth Vader then proceeded to outline the purpose of the class: To think like evil and create strategies for fighting evil that would include them sparring against him. At one point in his speech he noticed a very young slayer of twelve years whisper something to her friend and giggle. He stopped speaking and gave her a death glare. Luckily for her, it didn't actually cause death like he normally could; only because it was against the rules.

"Find something amusing?" he asked in a cold voice.

The girl shook her head frantically. "No! No sir!"

He leaned in close to her face. "So, you just think that you can talk while I'm talking? I'm sorry, but do you want to me the teacher here, Ms. Whatever-Is-Your-Name?"

"No! No, I swear. My name is Amy."

"Amy," he sneered. "Class look at Amy. She has broken one of my rules and must be dealt with appropriately for her insolence. Let her foolishness serve as a lesson to all of you to not be so stupid in this class."

Amy burst into tears. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

Darth Vader paused. "Uh…" Amy continued crying and wiping tears from her face. "Aw, gosh, kid. Don't cry." She didn't listen. "Come on now, I didn't mean it. You're not stupid. I was just trying to scare you, don't cry. I can't deal with weeping girls like I used to. Here." Darth Vader took the edge of his cape and wiped the tears from Amy's face. "There ya go. All better now?"

Sniffling, Amy gave a nod and a small smile.

"Good."

Kennedy couldn't help herself. Darth Vader gets creeped out by crying girls? She started snickering.

"Kennedy, that is a detention for you!"

"Detention!" she whined.

"Yes, I'll be using you for my weight training."

Her face crinkled in confusion. "How?"

"My Force abilities need to be exercised like any other muscle. Tonight for one hour I will use you as my object to lift using the Force for one hour."

Kennedy glared at him but kept her mouth shut. One detention was enough.

"Class, this is it for today. I have an appointment with Xander and Andrew to do something in a Dungeon and I think they said they're bringing Dragons. For your homework tonight you must outline to me a five page paper, single-spaced on how you would plan an evil take-over, in order to better understand the evil you are up against and learn how to think like them.

"Five pages?" Kennedy squeaked. "In one night? That's impossible?"

"Impossible? Well then, in addition to that five page paper write an additional five page paper on how you, as the good guy, would fight against your own elaborate evil take-over."

"Dude, that's not even fair for you to add that much more stuff!" Kennedy said defiantly.

"I have altered the homework. Pray that I do not alter it any further." Vader pivoted and stalked out of the classroom, leaving all the girls speechless.

Except Sofia. "That was just like in the move! Cool," she said dreamily as every glared at her.

* * *

**A/N:**

I like making evil guys be silly and petty :D It's just fun and I wanted to resolve this little plot bunny, although I'm sure I could have written more of Prof Vader's teaching career… Actually if anyone has any ideas let me know; maybe I'll fix this up and re-submit…Also, someone stole all my Star Wars dvds so I'm kinda sad I couldn't throw more quotes in there.

Oh yeah, and you'll notice a common theme that I am never all that nice to Kennedy… haha, she's just a brat ;)


	4. Kiri Kim Finds Jesus And Someone Else1

**A/N:**

Another exploration of what it would be like for a Potential to be called. Thought of this one while I was at church the other day and after watching the movie 'Freedom Writers.' Please know that all racial slurs are not a reflection on my beliefs (COMPLETELY the opposite, I assure you) but a reflection on gang life in LA.

_(Which side note, it is my *personal* belief that the Man long ago created rifts between poor people so they would fight amongst each other because of insignificant differences instead of teaming together to bring *real* change to this country... That is a fact that makes me very sad and I pray for the day that people's eyes open)_

* * *

Kiri Kim obliged her mother by attending church in their rough and tumble small Cambodian neighborhood of L.A. every Sunday morning, along with her younger sister Tevy. Although it was only May the heat was starting to get unbearable in their air condition-less chapel. Squirming in her seat, Kim allowed herself to people watch. Her mother was staring intently at Pastor Yo like he was freaking Jesus himself. Kiri had to refrain from rolling her eyes. As far as she was concerned, the church was full of bullshit.

After all, if Jesus really did exist he shouldn't have allowed her father to be murdered five years ago- on her eleventh birthday of all things.

Throughout her childhood her mother had raised Kiri to believe that "With God, all things are possible." Foolish child that she was, she had believed it. Quickly she discovered that it was a lie. For if all things were possible, surely she could have her father back? If not even that could be given to her, then at the very least her family's existence could go untouched by their poverty?

Just thinking of the lies she had been taught as a youth, and the lies Pastor Yo was currently spewing, made her bitterness constrict around her heart like an angry jungle snake. In Cambodian his name meant 'honest' and she thought his name was quite ironic.

Not soon enough the service ended and Kiri quickly went to her friend Vanna towards the back of the church. With their backs turned to the other church attendants they performed the handshake of the Jade Tigers.

Vanna's eyes glanced to look for eavesdroppers. "We're getting those spic bitches this afternoon. Meet up is at Channary's house at one."

Kiri's lips pulled back into a satisfactory smile. "Good. They deserve everything they get for putting Veata into the hospital. Bitches didn't even fight fair- seven on one?"

"Don't worry. We'll show them. After today the Latina Queens won't fuck with us again; and I guarantee all the other gangs will think twice." Kiri and Vanna snickered.

"Kiri! We are leaving! Come here right now."

Kiri grimaced at her mother's yell. "Okay, I better get going. See you later."

"See ya."

Kiri walked reluctantly over to her mother, whose was giving her a frustrated glare. The lecture started as soon as they began the walk home.

"What have I told you about hanging out with that Vanna girl? She is bad news!"

Kiri just shrugged and avoided eye contact. "She's been my best friend since I was five, mama."

Mrs. Fukushima clucked her tongue. "I hear the rumors. I know she is a member of that Jade Tigers gang! I don't want you hanging around with those type of girls. That's how you get in trouble. Or worse- dead! Pastor Yo just told me that one of the girls, Veata Im, died early this morning in the hospital."

Kiri gasped. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yes, Pastor Yo was called by the Im family this morning before service. Did you know her?" Mrs. Kim was staring intently at her daughter.

Know her? Of course she did! Veata was the one that brought Kiri into the family a year ago. She had been like her older sister. "Sure, from school. That's horrible," Kiri said sadly. She tried to keep the utter heartbreak out of her voice. No way could her mother know her involvement but it was terribly hard to keep from bursting into tears.

Her mother patted her shoulder and gave her a small smile. "I know it is hard to hear of a young person's death. We will have to pray for the family when we get home."

Kiri stiffened. "Pray? What's that going to do? It won't bring Veata back and it won't make her family feel better. The only thing that will help is if her murderers all die too!"

"Kiri Kim! Don't you *_dare_* blaspheme in that manner! The Lord is powerful and with him all things are possible."

"Whatever." Kiri rolled her eyes.

Her mother's palm slapped her cheek, leaving a hot sting in its wake. She pulled Kiri's chin so she could stare into her eyes. "When you were young you loved Jesus and you loved the church!" she lamented. "I know how your mind has slipped into darkness since you're father passed but you should not allow your spirit to so eagerly accept the darkness. Being a Christian is not easy and it does not mean that we are impervious to the devil's works. But Jesus brought back the dead, fed the hungry, and died for us. You need to be grateful, young lady." Her voice trembled with anger and emotion and for a moment Kiri felt guilty for her actions. But only a moment.

Jerking out of her mother's hand, Kiri just glared. "Grateful? He has done nothing for me," she spat. "But you know who has? The Jade Tigers. The ones *_you_* speak so badly of. For the past year they have taken care of me and we've been a family."

Her mother gasped, visibly shocked. Her twelve year old sister Tevy only looked away. It was no surprise to Tevy, although she tried desperately to pretend that her sister was not in a gang.

"No! I do not believe that," shouted Mrs. Kim. Her eyes darted nervously and their depths betrayed her words; on one level her mother had always known.

"Really? How do you think we were able to pay rent a couple months back? And who got the money to repair the broken window at our convenience store? Me, Mama. Me and the Jade Tigers."

"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary." Her mother paled and did the sign of the cross. "Well that ends today."

"No, it doesn't," she declared defiantly.

And with that Kiri Kim turned on her heel and began the walk to Channary's house.

* * *

"Can't we open a window or something?" Vanna whined as she leaned against the driver's side door.

"Don't be stupid Vanna! These windows are tinted, if we open them one of the bitches may spot us." Channary scowled at the younger girl and turned to Kiri. "You understand the plan?"

Kiri nodded coldly. "You bet. The Latina Queens are inside their hangout spot and our group goes through the South side windows while Group A and C take the North and West side. Then we kill all those bitches. They would never believe we'd have the nerve to ambush them at their home in the middle of the day. Meanwhile Vanna is our getaway driver and lookout in the van."

Channary gave her a warm smile. "Well done. Veata had been right about you. She saw you becoming a leader one day and I have to agree with her now."

Kiri's stony façade broke at the praise. "Really?" she asked.

"Of course. She thought you would succeed her someday." Channary shrugged and gave a small smile. "With her dead so soon… Well, it's too early for you to take her place- you have a lot more to learn."

"We'll get revenge on her killers." Kiri stated with confidence.

Vanna's cell rang. After a short conversation she turned to her two passengers. "It's go time."

Kiri and Channary made their way silently through the shrubbery until they reached the side of the house. They were in luck- since the weather was so warm the windows were already open. Channary hoisted her up and the Kiri slipped her slender frame into a bedroom window. For all accounts it could have been hers. Various posters were scattered on the wall, clothes were heaped in piles, and in front of a vanity mirror were scattered make-up jars. Kiri reached through the window and helped to pull up Channary.

Channary checked her phone for texts. "Okay. Group A is ready, they're in a empty bedroom too. We go in two minutes."

It was amazing how long two minutes could feel. Kiri's breathing quickened and she could feel the adrenaline start to rush into her system. Her fingers twitched on her two guns. She had a lot of experience fighting but had never actually used a gun in a fight before. Her mind drifted at that realization… Was she ready for this?

But then she thought of Veata who was ambushed so casually as if her life didn't matter. Veata who was only twenty years old, a single mother, a strong woman, and the closest thing she had to an older sister.

No, she was ready for this.

Channary slid the door open and the two girls filtered out towards the kitchen. Two Mexican girls were laughing and lighting candles on a cake when Channary hissed, "Now." Kiri shot one of the girls in quick succession; a bullet went through the girl's knee and another was in her gut. Channary's bullet sailed right through the other girl's head and into the kitchen cabinet.

Soon the house was filled with screams and the sound of gunfire. Kiri and Channary went into the living room which now looked like a war zone. There were more girls in here than they thought, almost twenty Latina Queens compared to twelve Jade Tigers. Kiri threw herself between a couch and a wall as bullets came flying in her direction. She slid her gun out on the other side and carefully peered out. As she was about to fire her trigger two big men walked through the front door screaming, "Stop!" In their arms dangled a helpless and forlorn Vanna who nervously eyed the gun pressed against her temple.

Everyone responded by freezing in place while members of the Latina Queens laughed in their faces. A taller girl with thick black curls that reached her waist walked to the middle of the room.

"Anyone moves and this chink is dead," she called in a superior tone. She blew a kiss to the man holding Vanna. "Way to go baby. I love it when you bring Chinese home for dinner."

Kiri's blood boiled and she had to hold back from screaming out, "We're Cambodian, you stupid bitch!" But she didn't. Vanna's life, and all of theirs, may depend on how civil everyone starts acting.

"My name is Isabella and I am the top Reina of the Latina Queens. Therefore, I get to decide whether you bitches die or live today. Drop your weapons and get up."

Kiri slid back behind the couch. Had they seen her? If they hadn't, maybe she could hide behind here for now. She tried to still her heart, terrified that someone would hear the thundering beat and find her. Her ears strained to hear their movements; it sounded like her girls were getting round up and their weapons were being thrown on top of each other in a pile.

She allowed herself a breath. They must not have noticed her disappearance because no one said anything.

"Who's the leader here," asked Isabella.

"I am," Channary answered in an icy voice.

"Oh yeah, bitch? So you thought you could stomp up here in my mama's house and shoot all of us up?"

"You killed our leader. Seven of your hoes jumped Veata and now she's dead. We're only returning the favor."

Kiri heard a growl and a slap. "Returning the favor? One of my girls is dead and five of them are shot."

"Look around. You've shot some of my people as well," Channary said.

"Yeah, but I didn't kill any of them. Guess that means only one thing." An ominous silence followed and Kiri imagined Isabella surveying her sisters, trying to decide who would be the best person to kill.

Hot tears sprang to Kiri's eyes. The thought of losing one of her sisters, again and so soon, made her terrified. Sure, she knew that this battle might result in a death but like this? With the Jade Tigers at their mercy instead of being the victors? It was almost too much to bear. A heavy feeling of helplessness weighed down on her chest. There didn't seem to be any solutions for this situation.

If she jumped out, they would likely kill her. If she remained here she would have to listen as one of her sisters died, or maybe even all of them.

It reminded her being eleven years old again. It had been her birthday and Father was helping her get ready for bed when he remembered that he had left a present in his car. She had been so excited at the thought of yet another present that she had begged him to go get it. Practically bouncing up and down she had watched him from her bedroom window make his way to the car. The dome light had illuminated his body in the pitch darkness of night and she had to smile at how good her father was to her. Kiri was, after all, his little princess.

Then she saw him, or it, in the shadows behind her father. Its face was more wrinkled than Grandma Kim's and it had the piercing yellow eyes of an animal. She screamed at her father to look behind him but the glass window muffled her words. He had mildly heard her and looked up at her with a big smile; he had thought her screams were excited ones.

Then the creature's arms engulfed her father and she saw it rip into his neck with its teeth. Scream after scream erupted from her mouth but she felt rooted to the floor. Her mind raced and all she could think was '_Save him God! Save him!_' Her mother had rushed into her room to ask her what happened but all Kiri could do was point outside as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Kiri didn't know if she could let another death happen because she was too afraid to do anything. But what could she do?

Her mother's voice rang into her ears- "_With God all things are possible_."

Fear wrapped around her heart and she wondered, for the first time in a long time, if maybe God was out there. If he was… Would he help her?

Maybe it was crazy, maybe not, but all she could think was a prayer. '_Help me Jesus, help me save my friend._'

These memories and thoughts had happened within the span of a minute. Now Kiri heard Isabella laugh coldly. "We'll kill this one."

"No, please don't kill Vanna. She's so young, only fifteen. Please, we can negotiate."

Fear cooled Kiri's blood at the sentence of murder but she was proud of Channary putting the life of the members ahead of her pride.

"An eye for an eye," Isabella sing-songed.

"No!" Kiri leaped upwards and pointed her two guns at Isabella. "Kill her and you're dead too."

Isabella's eyes widened in shock before she smoothed her face. "Looks like we have a Mexican stand-off, ladies." The Latina Queens laughed, her sisters just stared in shock.

"I'm serious. Listen, we'll go home right now and you will never see us again. I'm tired of death," Kiri said in a voice that sounded so much older than her sixteen years.

"What if I have them shoot your friend Vanna and take a gamble that you'll miss me." Isabella eyed her defiantly and was clearly establishing her authority. "After all, the House always wins. And this is *my* house, bitch."

"Well I'm not a gambler. And I assure you, I will kill you if any one of your people makes a move."

Isabella must have seen the truth in Kiri's eyes for she slowly nodded. "Fine," she said dejectedly. "You may all leave."

Kiri breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her arms to step over the couch. Unfortunately for her, not even one year of gang life was able to kill her trusting tendencies.

There was a flash of movement and Kiri toppled onto the couch after Isabella thrust a knife into her upper chest. Kiri's piercing cry filled the air as her chest erupted in pain. She looked down slowly and saw blood blossoming over the top of her white shirt. Oh God, the pain was unbearable and she writhed on the cushions. Dimly she could hear her sisters screaming in protest and the Latina Queens cackling.

"Now we are even," Isabella said with sharp finality.

The hot pain felt like something was scooping up her insides with a spoon peaked and Kiri screamed again. Her scream was cut short by a racking cough that expelled blood from her mouth. All at once no matter how much air she gasped in it felt like she was breathing through a straw. Black dots spotted her vision and she could hear her sisters sobbing and felt them carrying her. A final wave of blackness fell on her and then she could hear her sisters no more.

It felt like she was floating in a pitch black sea. Her mind was confused and everything felt fuzzy. Was she dead? Was she alive?

Then Kiri saw a bright white light and she began to swim towards it. The heat of the light warmed her body that had turned cold from the icy, frothy water. Tumultuous waters pitched her back and forth but she continued swimming forward. Her body stung with pain, ice water filled her lungs making it harder to breathe, and she felt herself tiring; but still Kiri continued on. Finally she was close enough to the light and in it she saw a beautiful fair-faced woman with hair the color of snow.

An angel! Truly Kiri knew she was dying because she saw an angel. She felt so ashamed of her previous thoughts and behaviors. After all of her sins and blasphemies, would she be forgiven? Would she be chosen to join her father in heaven? Or would she forever be trapped in these ice cold waters?

The angel smiled in Kiri's direction. "Chosen One," she whispered. "Fight and live."

Her fingertips and toes became warm from the heavenly light and soon that warmth coursed through her body. She felt herself floating upwards away from the deadly waters and smiled.

~~~~~~TO BE CONTINUED~~~~~~

* * *

**A/N:**

Kiri: Mountain

Tevy: Angel

Vanna: Golden colored

Channary: Full moon

Veata: Wind

Kalliyan: Best

Nhean: Instinctive

With God, all things are possible: A famous verse from the Bible… But I cannot remember where! Let me know, I'll add the verse!


	5. Kiri Kim Finds JesusAnd Someone Else2

**Kiri Kim Finds Jesus… And Someone Else PART TWO**

Kiri's eyes blinked open and her body jostled; she knew she was in a van. Her chest still hurt but the pain was receding like the morning tide. Her breathing had calmed but it still hurt to suck in a breath. Through slit eyes she saw that most of the Jade Tiger members had left in Vanna's van. Kiri was stretched out in the back and she was covered with a thick blanket. The van was mostly silent, except for several of the girls crying.

"Are you sure she's dead?" asked Channary.

"Yes," sniffled Vanna. "I checked her pulse. Isabella stabbed her in the lungs, there's no coming back after that."

"Well then. We'll take her back to my house and figure out where to put her. If she's dead there's no use taking her to the hospital."

"And then what? We just leave her in a gutter?" Vanna asked in an outraged voice.

"Listen, Vanna. We cannot draw attention to ourselves. Do you want to go to prison?" Channary said in a warning tone.

"She's right," added an older girl… Kiri's mind was still fuzzy… Oh yeah, it was Kalliyan, Channary's second. "We take care of our own but there's nothing more we can do for Kiri."

Vanna started sobbing again. Kiri realized she sat near her and assumed one of the other girls was driving. Vanna didn't sound as if she was in any condition to drive. Kiri wanted to speak and reassure her that she was alive but the thought of breathing in extra air to speak was painful in itself. And she was so awfully tired. Alive, yes. But deeply tired. Her eyes closed of their own accord and she drifted into sleep.

* * *

Her sleep was deep and her dreams were dark. She dreamt of a blond warrior and a group of girls her age battling ferocious humanoid creatures with dagger-like teeth. As the cave began to collapse her dream shifted to a new location. Here again was the blond warrior somersaulting through a darkened graveyard and planting a wooden stake into a creature- wait! That creature looked just like the thing that killed her father. As that creature turned to dust the blonde warrior began fighting with another one. But the creature was no match for her. She threw it on the ground and slammed the wooden piece into its heart.

The blond warrior looked up. "Slayers," she whispered. "Every one of us."

Then the girl disappeared as Kiri woke from being tossed roughly onto the ground, face down. She heard her sisters whispering and she tried to speak, to beg them not to leave her. She opened her mouth and a rough, "Wait!" slithered out her mouth. But with the car engine running no one heard her. Doors slammed shut and she called out again. "Wait!"

But the only answer she heard were tires squealing on pavement.

Kiri moved so she could maximize her breathing potential and her body groaned in response. It was amazing, though, at how quickly she was recovering. It no longer felt like wild dogs were tearing her chest apart but instead it only slightly burned. She could breathe better than before but deep breaths made her eyes tear with pain. Her eyes darted around as she tried to determine her surroundings. However, her sisters had thrown her behind a dumpster that was overfilling with garbage all over the pavement. Being behind the dumpster, she would need to move to figure out where she was.

Ah… But she was so tired.

It was still light out… It was maybe only seven p.m. She must have been in that van for a long time… Surely if she just closed her eyes and slept a bit longer she would be okay?

* * *

Loud laughter startled Kiri awake. Looking up she saw that the moon was high in the sky- it must be after midnight by now. Jeez, she slept for a long time.

She clutched her chest in fear, thanks to a nightmare, and realized she was alive still. Sitting up, she examined herself. Dark blood stains covered her shirt but the cut was healed. What looked like a fresh scar was the only mark that she had been stabbed.

'_My God_,' she said silently. '_Did you really save me?_' Tears of joy ran down her cheeks and a warmth filled her heart. There was a God! And he had saved her! He had saved her, even though Kiri had committed so many evils in the last year. Kiri could not believe that she had seen that angel. She murmured a prayer of gratitude. Everything was different now.

"Hey, did you hear that?" asked a man.

Kiri sat up straighter. She had forgotten about the laughter- People were here! Her mind raced. She would have liked a ride home but she was street smart enough not to trust random men in her neighborhood. Not to mention, she wasn't sure how to explain a bloody shirt. Maybe if she stayed quiet they would go away.

She heard the men, strangely enough, sniff like dogs. "I smell blood," said a second man. They both laughed. "Looks like we found dinner."

Dinner? What the hell did that mean? Kiri slowly stood up, still hidden by the dumpster. Although she expected to feel weak after her near-death experience she felt surprisingly strong. Weird.

A hand yanked her out from her hiding place. She squeaked in surprised as she started into a handsome, pale face. "Uh… hi?" she said. "Can you let me go please? I've got to get home." And did she ever… All of sudden Kiri wanted her mother so badly her chest pain seemed to inflame.

The man smirked. "Sorry sweet thing, but my friend and I are hungry."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "So what am I supposed to do about it? You want me to make you dinner? Help you find something in the dumpster?"

"No sweet thing- *_you_* are dinner." Then his face morphed into that same creature that had killed her father, the same thing she saw the blond warrior kill in her dreams.

Kiri screamed but he just turned around and clutched her close. She could feel his hot, fetid breath on her neck and she closed her eyes. Kiri thought, '_This is just how father died. Oh God, I was saved only to die again_.'

"You want first bite, Nhean? I still owe you from our poker game and think some teenage girl appetizer might make up for those kittens."

Nhean? Kiri jumped and she opened her eyes. There before her eyes was her father, unchanged from the day he died. "Father?" she whispered so much like the little girl who missed her daddy.

He smiled. "My little princess!" He laughed and it sounded almost like his old laugh, but it was tinged with something darker.

The evil creature let her go and she flung herself into her father's arms. "Daddy! Oh daddy, how did you come back? Did the angel bring you back too?"

He chuckled softly and held her tightly. "It wasn't quite an angel, darling."

Instinctively she pulled back and looked at him. Her senses told her there was something wrong with her father. Kiri stepped back so she could keep both men in her sights. "Daddy, why are you with this creature?" she asked slowly. "This is the same thing that killed you! And he wanted to kill me! Daddy what's going on?"

Dread filled her as her mind began to add things up… But her heart refused to believe it. Not just yet.

"Well, princess, nothing is wrong. I've just been out of town for a long time with my friend Jason here and I recently came back, which makes me realize I should come check in on your mom and sister. Do you want to lead the way and invite me in?" Her father smiled but instead of warming her she became chilled to the bone.

This man in front of her… Not her father. Not exactly. She summoned all of her internal strength and spat at him, "Why? Why daddy? So your friend can kill us like he killed you?"

Jason laughed. "Damn Nhean, you raised a smart one!"

Kiri gulped and began backing up to the dumpster. Tripping on something she fell backward as her father and Jason came forward. "Daddy, please!" she sobbed. She still couldn't believe that her daddy was as bad as his friend. Somehow, somewhere he had to know who she was… Right?

Her father smiled and then his face morphed, revealing a heavily wrinkled face and two gleaming canines. She shrieked and moved backwards, feeling helpless. These were demonic creatures! How could she fight them?

Then her mind flashed back to the angel and her dreams of the blond warrior. Kiri glanced around and saw that what she had tripped on had been a broken wooden chair. When Jason advanced she used the chair to hit him upside the head with all strength- which surprisingly was a lot because he flew towards the street. Her father snarled like an animal and yanked the chair out of her hands. His hands clutched her throat and raised her into the air.

"Princess, it's not nice to hit daddy's friends you know." She shivered at seeing her father's new face so close; his eyes were like a wild animal's. Without a doubt she knew this was not her father anymore.

"Sorry, *_daddy_*," she growled. "I just wanted to play a game." She kicked him in the upper chest and chopped his elbow. He dropped her to the ground and stumbled back. "The game is called 'Kill the Nasty, Wrinkled Bastards'. Wanna play?"

Jason came at her next and she ducked and kicked his legs out from under him. As her father- or the thing that was him- attacked she grabbed his arm to snap it and then flipped him over her back. All she could think about was that blond warrior and what she had done. Of course, Kiri was already a pretty decent fighter thanks to the gang life and from being raised in a dojo until her father's death.

She rolled past Jason's grasp, hit him again with the chair to break it, and pulled off a fractured chair leg. As he lay on the ground she thrust the leg into his chest just as the blond warrior had done

Jason gasped and burst into dust. She coughed as she stood and saw her father staring at her in shock.

"What are you?" he asked in an amazed voice.

Kiri shrugged. "I'm not sure," she said honestly. Really, where *_did_* this newfound strength come from? "But I do know that I need to kill you. I will not have you eating mom or Tevy."

He let out a sinister laugh. "Honestly Kiri, you make me laugh with your silly assumptions. Even if I was human I could easily kill you. You saw me perform at the dojo. I could snap your neck like a twig."

Kiri fought to not let that cold statement affect her. It was no longer her father's face, but it was still his voice. Then he snarled and flung himself at her. They engaged in the techniques of Kung Fu but Kiri knew she was outmatched. So what if she was suddenly super strong? Her father knew way more than she did about fighting.

She groaned as he threw her twenty feet onto the pavement next to the dumpster, right on top of an old book bag. He flew on top of her and leaned over her face eagerly. Saliva dripped from his mouth; she turned her face to avoid it but it pooled onto her cheek.

"Kiri, Kiri, Kiri, you have fought well," he said softly. "You've really built up my appetite. I haven't had this much fun since…well, ever. Hmm. I wonder if Tevy will have your skills. It would be a shame to go from you to an easy meal so quickly.

Her heartbeat sped up at his threat and though her arms were pinned she forced her fingers to search in the area. Her father released one arm to caress her cheek softly. "Sweet dreams, my little princess." Then he bent towards her neck.

She used that moment to thrust her arm and the thin object into his chest. Her father gasped and turned to dust, leaving her holding a pencil.

Kiri just laid there in silence for almost half an hour. She didn't even bother to wipe her tears until she was ready to get up. Gingerly she picked herself out of the garbage, well aware that fresh bruises were blossoming across her body from the fight.

Her mind was so tired that she could not believe what had just happened in the most eventful day of her life.

She got stabbed.

She saw an angel.

She found Jesus again.

She healed.

She found her dad.

She found out her dad was a monster.

She killed his friend.

She killed her dad.

And now she had to go back home… where she was sure an angry Mrs. Kim was waiting.

But unlike her old self, she said a prayer and thanked God for sparing her life once again. She was unsure of what she was or how she came to be this way, but she knew one thing for sure.

She had been Chosen.

The main question now was: What for?

* * *

Review, Review, Review Please!!! They are even tastier than Cadbury Crème Eggs!

**A/N:**

Kiri: Mountain

Tevy: Angel

Vanna: Golden colored

Channary: Full moon

Veata: Wind

Kalliyan: Best

Nhean: Instinctive


	6. Gretchen Brown and Her Beat Down

**The Tale of Gretchen Brown and Her Beat-Down**

**A/N: **

_Intro_: Who didn't love that Potential who grabbed the striking arm of her abusive father? I decided to explore her a little bit at that moment her Power came. Also, this story is a bit personal to me since I used some experiences from my life so its part of why I chose to write about this Potential.

_Setting_: Day of the Series Finale

_Genre: _Angsty

_Crossover_: No

_Warnings_: Verbal and physical abuse.

_Disclaimer_: Joss Whedon is God and I love playing in his universe. He owns all things associated with Buffyverse.

* * *

I know I shouldn't grasp at the tendrils of memories past. That train of thought has no functional value. But sometimes, like now, I take a rare quiet moment and dream of what my life used to be.

I was happy once. With a smile I remembered my kindergarten class where we created a dinosaur made out of cereal boxes or my first best friend Adrian as we chased boys on the playground. My family was small, it was just my parents and I, but we were happy. Fondly I could recall the princess 'castle' my father bought for me that was actually a cardboard house in some Burger King display. Or the times when we would have barbecues outside where my mother would gently scold me for eating my corn on the cob like a ravenous wolf with butter dripping down my chin.

But those days are over. My quiet moment is interrupted with a metal crash from the kitchen and my father yelling obscenities. He's always so angry. There have been so many times when I used to daydream that all the beer factories would be blown up so he would be forced to quit his addiction. Or that he would have a 'A Christmas Carol' type moment; would abandon the bottle and be the type of father you see on television.

Eventually I realized the futility of those daydreams. There is no fairy godmother and there is certainly no happy ending. My only escape from this life is in the books I am constantly reading. Reading provides the only happiness I have because I'm able to explore the universe of C.S. Lewis or Charles Dickens. Plus, I do find it mildly amusing to use big words that my idiot father doesn't understand.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I think the best I can hope for is a quick ending; unlike what my mother received. Today is the anniversary of her death and for five of my fifteen years I have been motherless. She suffered in such a horrible way that I cannot help but weep silently when I think of it.

It was New Year's Eve and I had celebrated the ball drop with my mother. Since it was a special occasion she had given me a real manicure and nails the color of my choice- hot pink. As I looked down at my nails the brightness of that pink made me ridiculously happy. Such a simple thing made me feel pretty, like I was somebody; unlike what father always said.

While I was in bed I dimly heard the sounds of objects being thrown downstairs, the tell-tale clatter of an angry, drunken father home from a good time at the bars. I crept out of bed and peeked between the railings of our wooden staircase. Father was in such a fit that his pale face was ruddy with anger and spittle would fly out of his mouth. Mother had been cowering in the corner, her arms raised pleadingly. "Slut! Whore!" would fly out of his mouth as if it was natural to him to speak in a tone full of deep hatred.

Sometimes I wondered if my father was a demon. Or part demon. I simply cannot understand where such great depths of anger and hate came from. When he wasn't an angry drunk he looked pleasant enough. But when I looked into his eyes sometimes I wasn't sure if I could see any warmth in them; like he was an empty shell rid of a soul.

Indeed, I believe after that night he lost the last scant piece of soul he may have possessed. My stomach had been turned in knots of acidity as I watched him slap my mother. First once across the cheek, then again on the other. As she begged him to stop and said I was sleeping he punched her straight into the mouth; his knuckles had drops of her blood on them as he pulled back.

This utter feeling of despair descended upon me as I lay on my stomach watching, helpless. What was I, a ten year old girl, supposed to do? Once I tried to stop him, but instead he just beat both of us. Mother had yelled at me terribly afterwards. She had said she was strong enough to take it, that she was like an Amazon warrior, that my father didn't really mean it, and I was to stay out of it so I would remain unscathed. As much as it pained me to do so, I never helped her again.

But that night I had begun to get worried for she looked worse for wear. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat on her knees and tugged on my father's flannel shirt to protest his actions. Her protest was in vain because he kicked her in the stomach to get her off of him. "Get the fuck out of my house!" he had screamed as he dragged her out the door and threw her keys to her beat-up Chevy to her.

That was the last time I saw my mother.

I had scrambled into bed quickly lest he spot me. After he gets his rage out its usually best to just let him pass out on the couch while watching late night TV. The last thing you want to do is draw attention. A knock on the door woke me up sometime later that night and I had ran to get open it to make sure it didn't wake up my father. At the time I had thought it was my mother sneaking in, since it was awfully cold and icy outside in the Michigan winter. It didn't matter though, he got to it before me.

Behind the door stood two policeman. One had graying hair and stern features and other was lanky, younger, and had a solemn expression with eyes lighted in pity. The latter's eyes had widened at the sight of me but he quickly calmed himself.

"Are you Mr. Brown, wife of Haley Brown?" asked the older man.

"Yes," my father had said gruffly.

"There's been an accident. I'm sorry, but your wife died in a head-on collision with a semi over on Kali Drive."

My mind was unable to process his words. Surely he didn't mean MY mother?

Meanwhile, my father had covered his mouth in shock and his knees weakened.

"We're not sure what happened. The semi driver claims that she was driving straight at him, but the roads were icy," the younger one added with a shrug that tried to say he surely thought it had been an accident. After all, why would my mother drive in the wrong lane?

"How? How did she die?" my father had gasped as his eyes blinked back tears. A surge of anger coursed through me at the sight. How dare he, of all people, act like he cared?!

"She suffered major trauma to her body. There was nothing the medics could do."

And like that, I lost the one person who in this world loved me. Unfortunately, my only inheritance was the acquisition of an even angrier father who has spent the last five years using me as his punching bag. My days followed the same consistent pattern. Wake, make my own breakfast, go to school, come home and do homework, make dinner, do chores, and help my father get into bed when his world got woozy from alcohol. Meanwhile, I endured his cruel verbal remarks and meaty fists.

I look into the mirror sometimes and just stare. Now I was eyeing my pallid complexion, round face, and dull brown hair with disdain. My father was right, I was ugly, not to mention overweight. I was disgusting.

But… There has always been a part of me, part of my practical side, that argued against those dark thoughts. It told me that I was someone special and that maybe someday someone would notice. They would look past my bloated body and acne to see that specialness. I hoped that they would even see part of my mother in me, that part that was a strong Amazon warrior.

I turned away from the mirror, eyes downcast. I've never felt strong. It took all my energy just to make it from one day to the next. Sometimes it was almost too hard and I would just lie in bed and think dark thoughts of suicide; anything to end this life.

"Gretchen! Get the fuck down here! I'm fucking hungry!" My eyes winced at his angry speech and I began the slow trek to the kitchen. Homework today had taken longer than usual and I was late with dinner preparations. Unfortunately, my mind was unfocused today. Something just felt… off. I couldn't describe it. In my state of mind I let the chicken get burnt and I almost wanted to cry when I pulled it out of the oven.

Mentally I prepared myself as he thudded to the kitchen. "Bout damn time", he mumbled as he grabbed a plate and sat down. I followed suit, although I suddenly was not hungry.

After tearing a forkful and shoveling it into his mouth, he spat it out. "What the hell is this shit?" He looked at me with drawn eyebrows. "I work hard all goddamn day, have to wait even longer for dinner, and its dryer than Betty White's cooch?" His fork clattered on the table with a sharp twang. "What the fuck is this, Gretchen?"

In class once I saw a documentary on animals and they mentioned its always best to avoid eye contact if you want to make it out alive. Now I followed that advice and kept my eyes lowered. "I'm sorry, sir," I mumbled meekly. "I think I might be getting sick, I feel funny and must not have paid close attention."

"Damn straight you weren't paying attention! This shit," he held up the plate of chicken, "is fucking inedible!" The plate crashed into the wall and the chicken made a dull thud.

I tried to make myself as small as possible, which is hard when you're my size. "I'm sorry! It won't happen again," I said hastily. I could already tell he must have started drinking while he waited and today was not going to be a good day for him.

He yanked me out of my chair by my hair and pulled me to the oven. "What the fuck is this?" he asked as he pointed to a once-white kitchen timer that was now a faded yellow from cigarette smoke residue.

"A timer," I said quietly. Please God, please God, please God, make him leave me alone tonight. Please please Please please Please please Please please Please please Please please. My bruises from last week were still a dark, sickly yellow and it was so embarrassing when I had to change for gym class. The other kids already think I'm white trash; the abused kid marks don't make that any better.

"That's right," he said in a condescending tone. "Now if you are too stupid to use one maybe I should just smash it into your fat face. Do you want me to do that?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No." Fear constricted my throat and my speech came out in a breathy whisper. "I-I promise to always use the timer from now on. Sir," I added quickly.

He released my hair. "Good," he sneered. "God, sometimes I think you're as stupid as your mother was. Except at least she was real pretty and skinny, even if she was a slut." Father let out a harsh laugh that grated on my nerves. "Oh well, at least I can rest assured knowing your virginity will be intact since no man alive is gonna wanna touch your disgusting body."

Shame filled me; I knew I was fat and ugly.

Sadness filled me; I loved my mother and I knew she would hate to see how he treated me.

But then anger filled me.

The bitter taste of it hung on my tongue and my fingers twitched from the adrenaline that was flooding my system. This. Was. The. Last. Straw. Too long has he said cruel things to mother, or about her, or to me. I looked at him know and truly saw him. He was a bitter, old, evil man that thrived off hurting others. His heart was cold and his soul non-existent. It was if he wasn't human and I suddenly had an image of him being born in a place shrouded in darkness.

The adrenaline sped up and electrified me. That strange feeling that had been haunting me today surged forward and I gasped as my body jolted in response to it. My body suddenly thrummed with power and a new wave of confidence spread over me. For the first time ever I felt a lack of fear as I stared into my father's eyes. He seemed to cower in response to my fierce look.

"Shut your mouth, old man," I hissed. "You will never speak like that to me again or talk about mother that way." A part of me wanted to laugh gleefully at saying these long awaited words. Yet, another part of me was surprised that they came out; it was like I was drunk on this feeling of power and I suddenly felt impervious to the world.

He let out a sinister laugh and smiled, but it was a cruel smile. "So, is that what you think?" He advanced forward and my recently acquired courage faltered at the look in his eyes. I had seen that look once before: on the night of mother's death. I stumbled back against the wall and he cocked back a fist.

A tremor ran through me as I took him in. He wanted to kill me; I could almost sense that level of hostility pulsing off him. Suddenly I felt like that ten-year old girl again who was powerless to help her mother; my mother that so many times had saved me from his wrath.

But that feeling dissipated as that strange sensation of power vibrated in the core of my being. No, I was no longer that ten-year old girl. I was no longer powerless. I will no longer cower in fear.

Today I will stand up.

I caught his arm as his fist descended. Shock was evident on his face and I was surprised at how easy it was to stop him. Frowning, I pushed him against his arm and he flew back against the opposite wall. What the…? Whoa! I don't think I was this strong before.

"You fucking whore! Who the hell do you think you are to push your own father? I'll kill you for this," he growled and stood up.

He took two swings at me that I easily avoided. It was strange. I could feel that my body had changed in the moments before. Suddenly I felt indestructible, strong, and fast. I certainly didn't fear this beer-bellied man. This time when he came after me I pulled a wrestling move that I had seen on WWE Raw and I flipped him onto his back. I placed my foot against his throat and felt a twinge of happiness as he looked up at me in terror.

I had no idea his eyes could showcase that emotion. Good to know.

"Listen to me, father. I am finished with you. For too long you have beat me down in this house and I am not dealing with it anymore. If anything, YOU are the one who deserves a beat down, do you understand?"

"Yes," he croaked. His eyes were wide in fright and his mouth gaped in astonishment.

"Good." I nodded sternly. "But you're also a lying alcoholic jerk so don't be offended if I don't take your word at it. But I want you gone. I want you to go someplace and get sober or die trying. But you will leave me here and give me money to live."

He laughed. "You want to get placed in foster care? That's where they rape little girls like you." I pressed my foot down on his throat and he gasped.

"As you've said many times before, I am certainly not little so I'm sure, especially after this, you'll agree I can take care of myself." I stepped off him, grabbed his wallet out of his coat, took the cash, and threw it at him. "Now get out. And never, ever come after me again, or you will be sorry." No doubt the vehemence in my voice or deadly glare of my eyes assured him I was serious.

Shakily he put on his coat and walked to the door. He turned back to me one last final time and whistled. "Little Orphan Gretchen. Mommy killed herself five years ago and now she gets rid of Daddy dearest."

I could feel that power crackling over my skin. "She did not kill herself. It was a car accident," I said acidly.

Father smirked. "She drove straight into that semi because she couldn't take one more minute of being your mother anymore. It was better for her to kill herself than take care of your disgusting ass."

My fists clenched and my vision swam for a moment. "You are a liar," I said heatedly. "It's your fault for kicking her out; YOU killed her!" Then I hurled myself at him in anger and began punching him. My vision was red and all I could do was think about paying him back for all the abuse hr had happily delivered to him. Each time my fist slammed into his flesh I felt a great sense of relief. It was as if all my hatred was finally pouring out of me through hitting him. Over and over I just hit him as images of my mother crying or past moments of abuse flashed through my mind. All the while I just whispered "Liar" over and over.

He tried to counter my blows but eventually he just stopped. I blinked and looked closely.

His right eye was rapidly swelling and blood ran out of his nose and mouth. His mouth gaped open. "Father?" I asked frantically. Oh no. I shook him but received no response. I hesitated but then I laid two fingers on his pulse… But there was no pulse to lay my fingers on.

He was dead.

I had killed him.

With my bare hands.

The man who had abused me for years.

The man who had caused my mother's death.

The man who I knew had wanted to kill me today.

I began weeping then. Not because I loved my father, because I didn't at all. But because I realized the truth.

When I looked in the mirror I would never see my mother's inner Amazon warrior.

No, I would see my father's inner evil. For in that one moment I had turned into him and used my hands for violence, for death.

I was a Killer. Like him.

My tears fell quicker and I prayed they could wash my sin away.

* * *

**A/N:**

_*Kali Drive: _Kali is a Hindu Goddess who devours the souls of the dead. I thought it was appropriate, plus I find her utterly fascinating.

_*"Today I will stand up."- _From Buffy's speech where she says "Can Stand Up, Will Stand Up." Its also the moment where the abused girl from the episode (who I named Gretchen Brown) stands up against abuse. Fitting, no? :)

*Also, I know this doesn't end very happily… *shrugs* But I found it fitting and I would like to use Gretchen in my SA: Vol 1 so this is something I wanted her to deal with. A lot of children who suffer from abuse tend to internalize their anger and become abusive in the future. I thought it would be interesting to explore this: that when Gretchen does get her own Power she loses control from her anger and in the process realizes that she isn't who she thought she was.

… Thoughts?


End file.
